New Life
by Sami365
Summary: Aimi Kirkland wasn't always her name. Before she fell from the sky and into Britain's life, her name was Valeria Moretti. Now she is Britain's daughter and secretly France's girlfriend. Just when she thinks she might finally live a life drama-free, she finds out she's pregnant with France's baby. Find out how everyone reacts!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Aimi Kirkland wasn't always her name. Before she fell from the sky and into Britain's life, her name was Valeria Moretti and she lived in another world that hurt her so much that she doesn't talk about it. Now she is Britain's daughter and secretly France's girlfriend. Just when she thinks she might finally live a life drama-free, she finds out she's pregnant with France's baby. Find out how everyone will react!**

**Warning: drama, possible cussing (in different languages) and a haunting past. This my first Hetalia fanfic by the way. Also, just so you know, it'll be a couple chapters till she gets pregnant. I want introduce her and her life first.**

**I hope you like the story : )**

* * *

**Britain POV**

I will never forget the day I met my daughter. How could anybody forget such a day? It was far from an average day, however, it did start out like any other.

America had come over to convince me to play the rubbish called video games with him. That was when _she_ came. She fell from the sky in a platinum light and landed a few kilometer away from us.

We had quickly made our way over to her, not knowing she was a girl instead of an object till we got to her.

"Oh my god! This chick fell from the sky! That's so badass!" America yelled excitedly. "Dude, she must be a fallen angel!"

"She's not a fallen angel, you twit." I told him. "She's just a girl."

"Oh yeah? Then why'd she fall from the sky?"

Since I had no answer for the bloke, I ignored his question. Instead, I tried to wake the girl, who appeared to be a young teenager, but she would not wake. Being without other options, I carried her into my house and from that moment on, she started her new life as my daughter.

That day, I vowed to protect her and care for her. I didn't nor do I know now her past, but she is my present and I will assure her a happy future.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked it : ) I promise most of the chapters won't be this short : )**


	2. Chapter 2

**Aimi POV**

"_Valeria! Why do you always screw things up!" A woman's voice yelled._

"_Get off your ass and do something." A man said._

"_Oh, is the big baby going to cry now?" An older girl sneered._

"_Why don't you ever listen bitch!" A boy screamed._

"_Stop it!" I screamed at the voices._

"_Val. Val. Val." They chanted, then made more complaints and mocked her._

"I said stop it!" I screamed, sitting straight up in bed.

Britain appeared in the door way and ran to me.

"Aimi." He said as he hugged me close and I cried into his chest. "You're alright, Poppet. You're alright."

He continued to hug me and stroke my hair. After a few minute, I was calm and my tears ceased.

"Are you better now, Poppet?" He asked as he pulled back from our hug.

I nodded.

"Was it one of _those_ dreams again?"

_Those_ dreams are the dreams that I don't tell him about because they're linked to my past. I haven't told Britain or anybody about my past. Its not that I don't trust anybody here; its just that I'm afraid of reliving my past by telling others. If I told someone, surely that would happen and I don't have the strength to face it anymore.

I nodded again.

"I see." He said, then kissed my forehead. "Now, are you ready for breakfast?"

"Depends. Is big brother here yet?"

"Yes, America's downstairs. In fact, he's probably already started eating." He shook his in disapproval.

"I'll be downstairs after I get dressed then." I told him and got out of bed.

"Alright, Aimi." Britain said, heading for the door.

"Daddy, wait." I stopped him.

He turned back to questioningly.

"Yes, Poppet?"

"I…." _Don't want to be left alone. _You idiot, he has to leave the room so you can change. "Never mind, its nothing."

He looked worried, but nodded and left none the less.

I took a deep breathe then headed to my closet. it's a walk-in closet, even bigger then the bedroom I used back in my old world. My closet has to be this big to fit all of my clothes. I'm not a big fashionista or anything. The only reason I have so much clothing is because Britain wouldn't take no for an answer. He filled my closet to the max when he decided that I'd stay with him.

I picked out a light blue tank top and white shorts. Then I search through my bathing suits and decided on my sky blue bikini. America's taking me to his place later to teach me how to surf. I get to decide which state, I'm stuck between California and Hawaii. Oh well, I still have time.

I put my bathing suit in a tote bag and headed downstairs.

My name is Aimi Kirkland. It used to be Valeria Moretti. I come from an Italian-American family, though I don't want to think about them or my past. I'm 16 years old….though I should be 17. Due to a strange and scary night last year, I no longer age. It's a long story, one I'm not ready to tell. All I'm going to say now is that there's more to me than can be seen. Maybe someday, others will discover what they can't see.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Third chapter's here! I made it longer than the others so I hope you like it. There's some from French in here so I'm putting the translations up here. I don't know any French so I got them from an online translator. Feel free to correct me if the translations are wrong:**

_**Vous allez bien?: Are you alright?**_

_**Ma belle: My beauty**_

_**Mon ange: My angel**_

* * *

Yes! Its Friday!

I packed everything I need in my weekend bag and headed downstairs.

I get to spend the weekend with France. We've dating for about a year now and every moth since the third month I'd spend the weekend over at his place.

Britain thinks I'm spending the weekend over at Hungary's who I've spent time with since I came to this world. I'd like to call her my best friend, but she's been too motherly for me to call her that. She still someone that I'm very close with. She's one of the few that knows about me and France.

Britain would probably get so mad if he knew. What if he'd feel betrayed too? I try to keep thoughts like that out of my mind. Everything will be ok as long as I keep him in the dark.

I head downstairs to say goodbye to Britain. I found him in the kitchen cooking….something black and unidentifiable. Whatever it was, it made the kitchen smell bad.

"Dad, I'm leaving for Hungary's." I told him.

He turned the stove off and faced me

"Did you pack everything you need?"

"Yep."

Britain looked back at the black object in the pan and sighed.

"Looks like I have to start over."

"Don't worry, Dad." I told him. "You'll get better."

I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Now I got to go. Bye."

"Bye, Poppet." He called. "Have fun."

I got into the my red BMW, which was a gift from America. I mentioned to him how I've wanted a red convertible so without any other reason, but him wanting to buy it for me, he bought for me.

I turned my car on and started driving. Without even meaning to, I started to think about the night I feel in love with France, which, oddly enough, was the same night I stopped aging.

_**Flashback**_

I was screaming in pain. Moments before, I was sitting on the porch, staring up at the stars then a white light cover my body and I felt as if I was burning.

I stumbled off the porch and fell onto the grass. I screamed for help, wanting the burning to end. It felt like hours, but It probably only took a moment for America and Britain to rush out of the house to save me.

As they approached, the white light that covered my body disappeared everywhere, but my hands. America got to me first fiercely protective hug. I was only vaguely aware of him talking to me, of him asking me if I was ok, because as soon as he touch, I was no longer looking through my eyes, but through America's. My sight was outlined in mist and the first thing I saw was a women with tan skin and dark hair and eyes. She wore animal skin over her body and, even though she looked as young as her mid-twenties, something about her seemed so old and wise. She reminded me a Native American.

"Mama," America said, seeming to be a child. "Can we go play now?"

"No my son. I must finish planting." She said, giving him some seeds. "Here. You can plant some too."

America took the seeds and dropped them into the hole in the ground that his mother made.

"There." She said. "Now remember, my son: Always take good care of the earth."

"Why?"

She kissed him on his head then spoke.

"Because it deserves it. It's our home and provides us with food. It takes good care of us so we should do the same for it."

Then the mist that outlined my sight covered the scene before me for a moment then replaced it.

America was still with his mother, but they were hiding in a forest, watching white people unload an old wooden ship.

"Mama, who are these strange people?" He asked. "Why are they here?"

"I do not know." She answered. "But its best to be kind to them, my son. They may look different, but we are all the same. We both people who share the home of earth. Its only right that we coexist with them peacefully."

Once again, the mist changed the scene before me. In this new scene, his mother was there again, but now she was covered in blood and bruises, just laying in the grass.

"I love you my son." She told America. "Please, never forget what I taught you."

Then she closed her eyes and died.

The mist came once again, but instead of giving me a new memory to see, it let me see through my own eyes again. From what I could tell, the vision only lasted a second or two.

Britain got to me and took me from America to hug me himself. That triggered another experience.

Unlike before, the scene was more like a slide show of pictures in front of me than something happening right then. I also saw. I wasn't looking through some else's eyes, but the biggest difference was the feelings I felt that weren't my own: pain, guilt, betrayal and they were all stringer then any emotion I have ever felt before.

I knew enough of history to know what was going on in the picture memory. It was the Revolutionary War: Their biggest fight.

The emotions were too much, too strong. Somehow I was able to push myself out of the vision and away from Britain and America.

"Stop!" I screamed at them as I stood up and quickly jumped out of their reach, not wanting the visions or feelings anymore. "Stay back."

"Aimi…" Britain said, looking greatly concerned and a bit hurt.

"Sis, what's-" America took a step forward and bolted for it. I ran as fast as I could till my body glowed its white light again and, the next thing I knew, I was in a whole different place. A whole different country.

And that's when France found me.

He was on his own back porch fence drinking wine and enjoying the night when I appeared in his backyard, still glowing in a white light. I kneeling on the ground, crying when he rushed over to me.

"Aimi, vous allez bien?" He asked, both curious and concerned.

I tried to get up and run from him, but I ended up falling into him. He caught me from falling back down to the ground.

That was when my white light flowed from the rest of my body and into my chest. I felt so weak afterwards that I couldn't keep myself up. France ended up carrying me inside and laid me on his sofa where I had some how managed to take a nap.

Before that night, I hadn't had much to do with France. He was one of a few people that Britain told me to stay away from so I only saw him when Britain would take me to meetings. I hadn't really known what to think of France until that night.

When I woke up, I was being kissed by France. To this day, I still blush at the fact that as soon as I realized what was happening, without given any thought to it, I kissed him back. When I did, he pulled back out of surprised.

I started blushing and he tried to act normal and as if wasn't caught kissing me. He started talking about something but I wasn't listening. I had questions on my mind.

"Why didn't you leave me out there? Why did you kiss me even though you that I'm a freak?" I asked, interrupting whatever he was saying.

"Freak?" He said. "Ma belle, you are no freak. I don't know what happened to you back with the light, but you are by no means a freak."

How could he not think I'm a freak? My real family did. Though the events were more subtle and they always gave logically explanations for, but I don't think they ever really believed them. My brother and sister would even call me a freak. So how can I not be?

"Aimi?" He said, bringing me back from my thoughts.

I raised my head to look up at him. I never realized that I had lowered it.

"You are not a freak." He said, completely serious, which even I knew was rare for him. After seeming to think about it for a second, he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. "You are mon ange."

Later, Britain and America came to get me. France had called to let them know that I was here. They wanted to know what happened and I told them what I knew. They weren't too happy about the memories I saw, but they still put their concern for me first.

The next day, Britain took me to the doctor to see if had any answers for us, but the doctor wasn't an ordinary doctor. He was Britain's doctor, one that specialized in countries. Not only was he able to tell us that I'd never age another year, but he also discovered that I'm no longer human. My DNA was similar to a country's only apparently much more complicated. He couldn't seem to figure out what out what I am though. I still don't know what I am. Yet nothing has changed between the three of us. America and Britain still treated me like family.

It was a couple days later that France and I got together, but it was still that one night that I fell in love with him. He says he loves me too, though I'm afraid that one day, things will changed and he won't anymore. For now, he does love me, though I'll never understand why. He loves me enough that he agreed to keep our relationship a secret, even he wants almost more than anything to literally brag to the rest of the world that I am his. France is sweet, but I knew from the beginning that Britain should never know about us. That its better if he doesn't.

_**End of Flashback**_

My mind has been stuck in the past the whole ride. I'm finally here. I can't wait to go inside and see him.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Next chapter's here : )**

**French Translations:**

**Bonsoir, mon amor-Good evening, my love**

**Ma fleur-My flower**

**Oui, Oui, je sais- Yes, yes, I know**

* * *

I made my way to the door. France must have heard my car because he answered the door before I stepped on the porch.

I ran into his arms and he chuckled as he hugged me.

"Bonsoir, mon amor." He kissed me. "It's good to see you. Its been too long."

I smiled.

"You know, its only been three days, right?" I said, referring to our last date. I may only stay at his place one weekend a month, but we also hang out as often as we can. Basically, whenever I can sneak away from Britain without him getting suspicious.

"Ah, but its been three days too long, ma fleur."

I hugged him tighter.

"So true."

We broke our hug and he grabbed me by the hand, leading us to the diningroom.

We had dinner, drank wine, and reveled in our in our time together. I've always loved my weekends with France. He makes me feel happy and gives me a sense of belonging. I love France and that, to me, sums up why I'm taking such a big risk with him.

After dinner, we decided to have some _fun_. I always blush at the thought of us doing it, but it never stops us.

We made our way upstairs, kissing the entire way. By the time we got to his room and on his bed, all I had on was my bra and underwear and him his pants.

Then his cell phone rang. We stopped long enough for him see who it was then put it on speaker.

"Allô, what do need, Angleterre? I'm a little busy at the moment, mon ami." He said, then started to kiss up and down my neck and jaw. I wasn't worried in the slightest that Britain called because this wasn't exactly the first time called on our weekends, to say the least.

"Just don't forget, Frog: You're hosting the meeting next weekend." Britain said.

"Oui, oui, je sais."

I found the moment a bit amusing. Just the fact that I was getting away with it even though Britain was on the phone made me laugh. Which I instantly regretted.

"I hear your little play-thing. Have fun with your whore, you Frog."

I cover my face with my hands. A whore. Britain really just called me a whore. I started to cry.

"Mon amor." He said and held me close. "You are no whore. Angleterre didn't mean it nor would he have said it if he knew it was you."

He moved my hands away from my face and kissed a few tears away that slid down my cheek.

"You don't know that. I'm dating _you_. I'm sleeping with _you_. I'm in love with _you_. Oh god, he's going to hate me when he finds out."

"Your papa would never hate. He loves you and no man could ever hate their own daughter."

Not true. My real dad hate me. At least it seemed that way.

"But I'm not really his daughter! I…" I lowered my head. I'm not important. I'm just a girl who fell into his front yard."

"Aimi."

I raised my head.

"You are important. Angleterre _chose_ to be you papa just as you chose to be his daughter. He would never have done that if you meant nothing to him. You-."

I silenced him with a kiss. I've had enough of being upset and I'm too stubborn to believe him. I need a distraction. I need _him_. I need our blissful _fun_.

And that's exactly what we did.


	5. Chapter 5

This cannot be happening.

I was at Hungary's house, puking up whatever was left in my stomach.

Its been five weeks since my last weekend with France and I've been getting sick ever since then. I even had to miss our weekend this month. At first, it was because I didn't want to worry him, but now its because I'm scared.

Hungary brought up the possibility that I might be pregnant. That was a couple days ago and she's been very comforting since. She got me a pregnancy test, but I haven't taken it yet; I'm too afraid.

What if I am pregnant? Would France leave me? Would Britain disown me? Would America think badly of me? Am I even ready to raise a baby? No, I'm not.. I'm only a teenager. I know nothing about babies or being a mother. What if I turn out like my mother?

My mother wasn't a very good at showing that she loves people. While other moms gave hugs and kisses, she gave hits and pinches. For punishment, some times I'd be slapped and just as a daily things she'd break me down every way verbally possible. I don't wanna be like that.

I started to cry right as Hungary came into the room. She knelt down beside me and gave me a hug.

I forced myself to stop crying.

"Its ok to cry, Aimi." She said. "Its ok."

Ok to cry? That went against everything I was raised to believe.

_Don't cry. Do this one thing right, Val, and don't cry._

That's what my family always told me. Maybe…they're wrong.

I let myself cry into her embrace, just for a little bit. When my tears slowed, Hungary spoke again.

"Now, no more worrying yourself. Take the test and I'll help you through the rest. I'm here for you, Aimi."

I hugged her tighter for a moment then let go and nodded.

I took the test and let Hungary back in to wait with for the next five minutes. The longest five minutes of my life.

It ended up positive. I'm pregnant.

"Aimi, tell me. Do you really love France?" Hungary asked.

"Of course I do." I told her.

"I guess I can't hit him with my frying pan then…"

I stared at her, horrified.

"I won't; I promise." She said, then changed the subject. "You need to tell him."

"I know…but not yet. I need time to think first."

"Just don't take too long, ok?" Hungary said. "He deserves to know his going to be a papa."

I stayed at Hungary's for two more days, but then had her drop me off at America's. Hungary's been supportive and everything, but I need my big brother now more than ever.

I found America in his Arcade Room playing a zombie video game with Tony.

"America, I need to tell you something." I told him.

"In a minute." He said. "We're almost done with this level."

"_Alfred, please_."

My brother, who's normally so dense, seemed to sense how important what I had to say was because he dropped his controller, told Tony he'd be back, an d lead me into the living room.

"Ok, now what's wrong, sis?" He asked as we sat down on the couch.

I stared down at my hands.

"S-something's happened and…I'm scared."

"What happened?" He asked.

"Promise me you won't be mad at me."

"I promise now tell me."

I took a deep breathe.

"I'm…pregnant."

America stared in belief then started getting angry.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, trying to keep himself under controlled.

"It's not his fault."

"Who's the father?" He asked again.

"F-France."

America got up and went into the hall. I followed him.

"Amer-" I saw him take one of his hunting guns out of the hallway closet. "No!"

"I'm gonna-"

"No, just stop! I love France. We've been dating for a year and I've kept it a secret because I was afraid you and Dad would hate me and I wouldn't be able to bare it if you did. Please, put it away. This is all my fault." I told him, my words coming out in a rush.

"Aimi…" He said then put the gun back in the closet and hugged me.

"Do you hate me?" I asked.

"No, sis." He said. "I'm worried about you. Who else have you told? France?"

"Not yet. I've only told Hungary."

"You have to tell him, sis."

"I know."

I had America drive me home later. I went upstairs to my room and called France.

"I need to see you. Can you come get me?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Next chapter is here : ) I've noticed that my chapters have been pretty short so I'll try to make them a bit longer. Also, the portrait that I describe late in this chapter is real. I described this picture I saw in a Hetalia CMV. I'm going to try to see if I can find the picture. Anyway, enjoy the chapter.**

**French Translations**

**Mon amor-my love**

**Bien sûr que fais-Ofcourse I do**

**Jamais-never**

**Je suis enceinte. Allez-vous rester avec moi?-I'm pregnant. Will you stay?**

**Bébé-baby**

**Oui-yes**

**Maman-mom**

* * *

France came and picked me up. I didn't tell him so, but I could tell that he knew what I had to say was about why I've been avoiding him. When he got here, he wanted to know everything, but when I told him to wait till we get to his house, he didn't push it any further.

We went into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Seconds ticked by and I still couldn't bring myself to speak.

"Mon amor, tell me." He said, putting my hands in his. "Whatever it is, its upsetting you. Tell me."

I launched myself in his arms and he held me tight. I enjoyed his embrace for a moment before I broke away and spoke.

"Do you really love me?" I asked.

"Bien sûr que fais." He said without hesitation. "I always will."

"Would you ever leave me?"

"Jamais. I could never leave you. I love you."

I was silent.

"What…about both of us?"

"Que?"

"Could you love both of us." I asked, a bit louder.

"Both?" He asked, still confused.

I took a deep breathe. I don't why, but my next words just naturally come out in French.

"Je suis enceinte. Allez-vous rester avec moi?"

His eyes widen.

"I'm going to be a papa?"

I nodded.

"I want you to stay," I looked down at my hands. "But if you don't want anything to with us-"

He pulled me back into his embrace.

"I love you." He said. "I told you that I could never leave you and I meant it. This doesn't change it."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to be with me because of this. I want you to be happy." I looked away.

He gently took my chin and raise my head so I'd look up at him.

"I'm happy with you. I'll stay with because its what I want more than anything in this world." He looked straight in my eyes. "I love you and our bébé."

I was a bit surprised.

"So…you're ok with this?"

"Oui, in fact," He began. "I'm excited. This is great, mon amor. Our own child."

He smiled at me and I smiled back. Then a thought came to me and my smile faded.

"France, I…"

"What?"

Tears filled my eyes.

"I'm scared. I don't know how to be a mother. I don't how to raise a baby."

He held me closer.

"You'll be a great maman. Everything will be fine. I'm here so you aren't alone in this."

At that moment, I felt happy and at peace. I knew as long as I'm with France, everything will be ok.

We talked about things a bit more. He thought that I should move in with him. I agreed, but part of me didn't want to leave Britain's house. I just need to accept the fact that my main role in life is no longer as Britain's daughter, but being a mother.

Later, France left for the store to get somethings for dinner tonight. I took this opportunity to tell the last person on my list: Britain. I made a quick visit back home. I searched the house for my father, but couldn't find him. Finally, I poked my into his study and noticed that a bookshelf was facing me instead of being against the wall. I looked behind it and found a doorway leading into another room.

The room was filled with old timey paintings, most of which were of Britain and America, ranging from when he was little to right before things fell apart for them, but there were others too. There were some of Britain with big brother Canada and the three of them together.

But what surprised me the most was the big portrait in the center of the far wall and the photograph under it.

The portrait was one with the three of them in it, Britain on the right, young America on his left, and a young Canada next to him. It was the fact that France was in it, on Canada's other side, that surprised me. What's doing in one of Britain's paintings? It made no sense.

The photograph under it made much more sense. It was a picture of me, Britain, and America on my 15th birthday. I've always hated getting my picture taken so it's the only picture Britain has of me. The picture sat on the desk under the big portrait.

Britain also sat at the desk. He had his head down on the desk and his arms over his head. Maybe it's the wrong time to tell him…

"Dad?" I called as I slowly approached him. Part of me felt as if I was intruding.

He quickly raised his head and stood up.

"Oh, Aimi!" He said, eyes red as if he were crying. " I-I didn't know you'd be home today, poppet."

Since when does Britain cry? And why was he crying?

"Are you ok, Daddy? What's with this room and the huge center portrait?"

"I'm fine, poppet." He answered, seeming more like himself. "This room is just where I keep some old paintings. I have other rooms just like it. As for the center portrait…its nothing."

He shook his head. I decided not to press him for more info.

"Now," He said. " Is there a reason you came up here to see me?"

"No." I said, chickening out of telling him. "Actually I just came up to get something out of my room so I can get back to Hungary. I just came up to tell you I'm passing through."

"Ok, but, poppet?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I…" He looked away. "I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me. I'm glad you that you became my daughter and are here with me. I don't know what I'd do if had never fell from the sky that day. I'm glad I have you to trust, poppet. You everything to me and have become my reason to smile. It's been a long time since I've had a reason to smile."

"Dad…"

"I love you, poppet. I'm so glad you're my daughter."

Don't cry you idiot. Don't cry.

Those words rang in my head as I tried to keep myself composed.

"I…I love you, too, Dad. Thanks for _letting_ me be your daughter."

I left soon after for France's, upset about things once again.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I'm sorry that this isn't a chapter. I know its been about two weeks or so since my last chapter, but you guys are going to have to wait longer. I have to take a (hopefully short) hiatus. I've been dealing with a lot lately, from my grandpa's cancer, to hearing that he's stopping his chemo treatments, and to all my other personal issues. I just need some time to...oh, I don't know. Have things get better? To get stronger? I honestly don't know, but I hope you all are ok with me taking this time. Thank you all for reading so far and thank you for your patience. It means a lot.

Before I end this message though, I have some gifts for guys. Remember that portrait in Britain's secret room? The big one? Well I uploaded the pic on another website for you guys to see. I also have a link to the CMV that I first saw it in. The links will be on my profile page.

Again, I'm sorry and thank for you patience.


	8. Chapter 8

******A/N: I'm back from my hiatus! I will warn though that I'm not sure how often I can update. I'm moving soon so I have to get things packed up and spend some time with my friends before I leave. That and I have 2 other stories to work on plus my poetry. Not to mention school work. **_****__**But I will update when I can.**__****_******Anyway, enjoy the chapter.**

******OH! Before I forget, I just want to say that I noticed that the links to the picture and CMV were screwed up in my last post so I edited the post and put the links on my profile at the top. I hope you'll check then out.**

___**Translations:**_

___**Mon amor-my love**_

___**Sansass-wow**_

**__****Famille-family**

**__****Oui-yes**

**__****Ma belle-my beauty**

**__****Moi-me**

* * *

I had just walked through the door when France Rushed over to me.

"Mon amor, where were you?" He asked, holding me close. He was obviously worried.

"I went to tell my dad. Why do you seem so worried?"

"You told Angleterre by yourself?" He didn't look happy about it.

"No, I..." Stupid tears filled my eyes, causing me to feel angry with myself for them. I broke our embrace and leaned against the wall, my head lowered. "I chickened out. He was already crying. I didn't have the heart to tell him."

His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Angleterre was crying?"

"Yeah."

I told him about what happened, from the secret room to the portraits to my dad said to me.

"Sansass," Was the first thing he said. "I never though he'd keep that portrait."

"Why were you in it anyway?" I asked, still curious.

"Ah, it's our famille portrait."

"Family portrait?"

"Oui, we raised Matheiu and Alfred together."

My eyes widen.

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"

"I suspect that Angleterre is trying to forget." France answered. " America, too, tries to forget the majority of his past and Canada...well he's never been much of a talker, no?"

"But why didn't___you _tell me?" I asked.

He was silent for a moment.

"It's just easier to ignore the hard times in your own past."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-."

He silenced me with a kiss.

"Don't be. I'd like to tell you more."

He took me by the hand and led us into the living room. We sat on the sofa.

"It wasn't the time that the four of us spent together that hurts, ma belle." He explained. "Its how it ended. Your Papa had...trust issues. Though he easily seemed able to trust children, he had trouble trusting other adults, including moi. Things were great nonetheless until he started to get paranoid, thinking I was going to take Mattheiu away from him. He started the Seven Years War and I lost Mattheiu. Things got worse for the three even after I was cut out of the famille. I guess the four of us haven't moved past it yet."

I didn't know what to say.

"I'm telling you this, mon amor, to show you that people can survive talking about the worst times in their lives and in hope that you share some of your past with me as well."

Maybe I could tell him...but not just yet.

"Soon," I promised. "But not right now."

He gave me a small smile and held me close.

"That's fine, mon amor."

We stayed like that for a moment.

"Um, about telling my dad," I said. "I don't think I can do it. Not after everything he said."

France looked down at me sadly.

"Aimi, I'm afraid that there's no choice in the matter. This isn't something you can hide from him."

"But what if he doesn't trust me anymore!? You yourself said he has trouble trusting people! What if..." I looked away. "What if he stops loving me?"

France put his hands on each side of my face gently guided it back to face him.

"Your Papa will always love you, no matter what."

"France, I know it could happen because of lived through. It won't be the first time someone stopped loving me."

I looked down at my feet.

"Aimi..."

I sighed.

"My family stopped loving me because I wouldn't change into how they wanted me. My dad thought I loved animals too much and that I was too liberal. My mother and Renata-my older sister- though I wasn't girly enough or smart enough. My younger brother, Gavino, thought I was lazy and ungrateful, even though I did more around the house than he did and tried to make up for being a burden on everyone. They all want to control me and make me obedient. Overall, I was raised to believe that I shouldn't trust myself or speak and that I make things harder on myself for being too sensitive. I grew up in a small apartment that was thick with oppression. I wasn't good enough for my family's love so I faded from their hearts. I don't want that to happen again. Not with Dad, not with anyone."

He caressed my cheek.

"Aimi, they were wrong. Please know that." He pleaded.

"I know...yet I don't. Part of me can't believe it because I was raised not to trust myself. But I try to, France, I try."

Some tears slid down my cheek and I hastily wiped them away.

"Then I'll help you believe it, mon amor. I'll help you see your worth." He said.

Then he kissed me.

"You'll never have to go through that again. Everything will be fine now, I promise."

"I know," I said. "And I...think I'll wait to tell you more."

"It's fine, mon amor. Tell what you can when you're ready."

Maybe...things will be ok.


End file.
